When rose enchant nightingale
by Messallina
Summary: Ayesha and Christine have discussion about Erik. Fluffy, Erik/Christine story with happy ending.
1. I wanna be that cat

**When rose enchants nightingale**

_Summary: In Susan Kay's book, Christine feels jealousy towards Ayesha, because Erik seems to care about his cat more than her. So, what if Erik taught Ayesha how to speak, so ladies can tackle the issue in direct confrontation?  
>Silly, fluffy EC.  
>Story is told from Christine's POV<br>Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
><em>  
><strong>I want to be that cat<strong>

Once again was I left alone in the house by the lake, when Erik vanished on some mysterious errand. I didn't have the slightest notion as to what he was actually up to. He never offered and I never asked. Maybe I should have, because now was my traitorous mind spinning a horrific tale based on the surely exaggerated rumours and his reputation within the corps de ballet. I really ought to find something to occupy myself with. Perhaps a book?  
>Ere long I scurried into the living room carrying a book, just fresh from print, called Quo Vadis. But, to my dismay, I found my favourite chair already occupied. Ayesha was sitting there, not moving and appearing to be at peace, with nearly closed eyes, and yet I felt her gaze at me. When I attempted to move closer, she fully opened her eyes and the sheer loathing in them was enough to make me reconsider my plan.<br>I turned away and sat on a couch, staring at the unopened book in my lap, because I dared not to look again in those omniscient, spiteful, moldavite eyes. Yet I was almost jealous of her. She always knew what she wanted and always made sure she got it.  
>Sighting, I whispered my wish to the air.<br>"I want to...  
>I want to be that cat!"<p>

"Oh really Christine? "  
>Asked beautiful, but a very cold voice from somewhere behind me. Ayesha.<br>"It's not as good as you would imagine." Continued that voice. "For example, I must lick my coat, instead of bathing. Imagine that. Although, it spares time and preserves water. It is much more efficient than soaking for hours in a bathtub. So yes, it maybe really is better to be a cat."  
>Gobsmacked, I turned just enough to have the chair, and the cat, in my field of vision. She was staring at me, her head turned to the side. Nothing unusual here. And yet I would have sworn I've just heard her talk. There was no one else besides me and her and most certainly I wasn't the one who spoke.<br>Gathering my courage, I took the easiest path to finding if it really happened.  
>"Ayesha, are you… are you speaking to me?"<br>I asked, still vary and not quite believing my own ears. I thought I must have been dreaming. Or have I finally gone insane, after days of being underground with only an elusive man as company?  
>But when the cat opened her tiny, delicate mouth all my doubts were gone as the sound that came out was the furthest thing from mere meowing.<br>"Erik taught me that. Well, it may have taken some messing with my vocal chords as well but that's not the point. You think he, a genius, lived all those years in silence?!"  
>This little sarcastic creature with soul and bearings of a queen really was the perfect companion for Erik.<br>"Why have you never spoken a word till now?"  
>If someone would have told me last week that I will be having a conversation with a cat, with Ayesha, I would only laugh at him. In the world I have known my whole life cats don't speak. But this was a world past the lake. This was the world, where angels aren't only in stories, this was the world, where, as I could hear, cats can actually speak.<p>

"Erik forbids me to speak with you. He thinks it would frighten you."  
>She spoke without interest, but begun slowly moving towards me. But honestly I was more frightened of her back when she was silent.<br>"And you just obey him?"  
>I couldn't imagine this self-confident cat obeying anybody, even Erik who could scare the wits out of lesser men. I know she's a cat, but you get the image.<br>"When you're frightened, he's unhappy. I like him and I don't want him being unhappy. Simple as that."  
>Her voice sounded almost kind when she spoke of Erik. The love they held for each other was plainly obvious.<br>There was still one unanswered question in the air. She didn't need to be jealous of me. Erik cared for her much more than for me, so why did she hate me?  
>I pick up my courage and asked.<br>"Why are you always so unkind to me? Do you hate me? Why? I did nothing wrong to you!"  
>She hissed at me and for a moment I thought she would go through and an attack would soon follow.<br>"Nothing wrong you say?! I've already told you I like Erik and I don't want him being unhappy. But after falling in love with you he's permanently sad! Foolish girl, don't pretend you don't know what you're doing to him! And you're still question whether I hate you?!"  
>She contemptuously turned her head away, inattentive to my tears which were gathering in the corners of my eyes. Did she really think me such a heartless beast, only playing with Erik like she plays with mice?<br>Suddenly she jumped on the coach next to me. Surprised, I looked at her. She didn't seem like she wanted kill me.  
>"Oh no. Don't cry please. Erik will be here soon and if he finds you crying because of what I have said to you..."<br>Her sentence faded into silence. I only sadly smiled at her.  
>"Ayesha, when I have known him only as the Angel of Music, I often wished he would come to me like a man. A man who will love me and whom will I love. "<br>"In case you haven't noticed, your wish has been granted. So, where is the problem?"  
>She spoke calmly again, but her eyes were still cold and steel sharp.<br>"I don't know. Maybe he loves me, in my heart I know he does, but he's so cold and aloof when he's with me and – "  
>I wanted to continue but we both heard the splashing the sound the boat makes when rowed across the lake.<br>Erik was returning home.


	2. Silence of the rose

**Silence of the rose**

"_I don't know. Maybe he loves me, in my heart I know he does, but he's so cold and aloof when he's with me and – "  
>I wanted to continue but we both heard the splashing the sound the boat makes when rowed across the lake. Erik was returning home.<em>

I looked at Ayesha, eyes wide as saucers in panic.  
>"Go to your room. I will try to carefully explain to him, that you already know my little secret."<br>I managed to only nod. It sounded reasonably after all. And I really didn't feel like admitting neither why exactly I knew his cat speaks nor what we were talking about to Erik. Not a conversation I was keen on having with my teacher. Not in a million years.  
>"Thanks Ayesha."<br>And I hurried to my room. My? I smiled at that notion. It's not my room, I am only a guest in this house. When had I started to think of it as mine? I was so immersed in my thoughts, that I almost forgotten Ayesha's promise to explain. How much of our dialog will she reveal to him? Will she make me sound like a fool I was, compared to her? For she was the most refine creature I've ever seen, always composed and dignified, a true lady even when she was licking milk from a bowl.  
>I tried to eavesdrop, but much to my disappointment, heard nothing. I stood in front of the door, with my ear on the wood. I heard their voices, but I couldn't recognize what they were saying.<br>Disappointed, I sat on a chair and continued reading the book, which I have brought back with me. I cay continued but to tell the truth I had yet to read the first sentence.  
>And even now it remained unread as, given the circumstances, I could not possibly concentrate. Echo of Ayesha's words was still in my mind.<br>_"I've already told you I like Erik and I don't want him being unhappy. But after falling in love with you he's permanently sad! Foolish girl, don't pretend you don't know what you're doing to him!"_  
>I knew where the problem was. In my mind. One part of my soul was still a child, fearful of things which were yet unknown to me – for example love. This part wanted the love of my childhood sweetheart. Pure and innocent as it was, I confessed, it wasn't exactly what I wanted. I liked Raoul, but I loved Erik. I did. Even though I never dared to say it or even think about it, it didn't make it less real or the emotion less raw. I did love him and in denying it I was killing him. Every child must once grow up.<br>I didn't fear his face, not any more.  
>The true beauty lies in the eye of beholder. Never before did I feel more intently the eternal truth hidden in the simple words.<br>I would never choose a young man, however handsome and rich, who wouldn't love me over this like a corpse looking and quite probably insane phantom with beautiful soul who loved me more than anyone else could.  
>Erik has the most beautiful soul I have ever seen. He may hide it well and all I he ever let me see were just glimpses but it was enough.<br>He led me out of my sorrow after father's death. Now it was my turn to lead him out of his darkness with my love.  
>And, after all, what kind of a shallow person cares only for the facade?<br>My reverie was cut short as the very object of my thoughts called me.  
>"Christine, will you come here, please?"<br>I bit my lower lip and gripped the door handle with quivering hand. His tone betrayed none of his emotions, that was a quality only his eyes had, and not knowing what would I find in them terrified me.  
>When I entered the room, the first thing I noticed was Ayesha happily lying on his lap. He sat before his piano and scratched the head of cat.<br>It looked as if he wanted to say something but Ayesha chose that particular moment to hop down on the floor, slowing her pace as she went by me, then quickening again. She stayed silent but her grin was saying everything. She exited the room with dignity worthy of a queen. My breath hitched. What exactly did she tell him?  
>"It's time for your singing lesson. Sit down with me. I want you to sing this."<br>With these words, he placed some notes before me. The song was unknown to me.  
>He began to play its melody. The music brought tears to my eyes. I didn't understand the text, because it was in Russian judging by the letters, but I could feel the sorrow in its melody. At least, Erik played it sorrowfully. But then I realized the whole tune wasn't sad at all. There was also touch of hope in the way he sang it and a certain amount fondness. It should not be so, combining sad melody with hopeful vocals yet it strangely fitted together.<br>When the last note faded into silence he looked at me expectantly.  
>My eyes widened.<br>"Erik, I think I can't sing it, because I can't even read it! You know that I don't understand Russian."  
>I blushed a bit, admitting not knowing something which clearly was matter-of-course for him. Yet he didn't seem to be disappointed or angry. He only smiled at me and began reading the text, carefully pronouncing the foreign sounds.<p>

"Пленить розои соловей,  
>и ден и ноць поет над ней,<br>но роза молца песня внемлет.  
>невинный сон ее гре́зить.<p>

Ages ago, the rose enchanted the nightingale,  
>he sings to her every night and every day.<br>But rose only hearken in silence,  
>dreaming her innocent dream.<p>

Now you know the words and even the meaning so, please, sing it Christine."  
>Hesitatingly, I obeyed him. Surprisingly, the poem was not an unknown one to me as my father used to recite it when I was little, but he had never sung it. And so it happened that I knew this was not all, that there was one stanza left.<br>The song ended but I continued, only whispering the words, words, whose true meaning was lost to the child which learned them many years ago. I understood now. I had to be brave. For him. For myself.

"Because of the peacock in her dreams,  
>rose forgot what true love means.<br>Nightingale sang to her whole day long,  
>but she didn't understand his song."<p>

Erik looked at me, visibly confused and astonished I knew the words. I wanted to cry, when I saw the hope he tried to keep hidden resurface in his countenance, but could not bring myself to gather enough courage to chase his fears away.  
>And so, all I managed to do was a murmur of : "Foolish rose."<br>The hope he tried so hard to keep at bay blossomed and it fuel my bravery as I dared to gently brush his hand with my own and continued.  
>"Foolish me."<br>He looked at me expecting my words to be some kind of a cruel joke. But he only found faith and love there.  
>"You can't imagine how much I love you." He rasped as tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes.<br>"And I love you Erik." I whispered, lowering myself to sit beside him at the piano bench and resting my head on his chest. A smile bloomed at my lips as I felt him pressing small kisses to the crown of my head.  
>Near the door sat the little Siamese queen and purred and purred.<p> 


End file.
